The Grenada gazette. (Grenada, Miss.) 1885-18??, 1887-08-20
THE OLD CHOIR.

To-day, with prayer-book in my hand,
worship in my usual pew.
The service never seemed SO grand.
They sing the great 7s Deum through;
But somehow, valid beneath the chime,
A pathos rules the tones sublime,
And, as they ebb and flow,
They sweep me up the stream Of time
To twenty years ago.
The sexton mods beside the stairs;
Before his desk the priest I see,
Who, just as usual, drawls the prayers;
Each face is where 1t used N be
Before the years had stretch'd so wide
The organist beside his keya:
The tenor, Tom, hard by his side;
The alto with her violet eyes;
The sweet soprano with her girlish face;
And I, who lied the choir" and sang the bass
The lips OF June have kiss'd the year,
And in the loft wait to hear
A football break the calm.
IN mellow'd splendor through the panes
The deepening twiight's purple stains
The air and spot embalm.
So hush'd and mystic, yet intense,
Imagtn'd sweetness fills the tense,
AS OF a just-concluded psa:fh
And now the death Of day N tnoll'd;
Flicker the organs pipes g. gold;
And as the purple light gr Tvs thin,
MY fingers self-instructed, crop
Upon the clarabella stop,
And loose the angel-voice within.
Is there a spirit In the placer
know it by this sudden start,
This telltale throbbing OF my heart.
Appear with bashful face,
Dear nymph OF all my hopes and fears
Shy maiden, with the shell-like ears
And the Madonna's grace!
Oh, not for poets do young moons
Sail crescent barks on dapprd seas
For souls OF lovers are these Junes,
With all their leafy ecstasies!
Shine, starry vault! and murmur, trees,
Your myriads Of mysteries!
No sylvan secret you mpart
Can match the love lock- in my heart
And now to-day-red-ietter day
For hearts on which we dote-
Flowers make the chancel strangely gay,
And Tom has got one on his coat.
The alto wears bridal vail.
In her dark hair the rose so pale
Is not more fair than she.
Tom leads her 10 the altar rail-
And all the town is there to see.
Flare, golden pipes! Blow, bellows, blow!
Crash like a salvo, wedding march!
They're at the door; they've roach'd the
larch
Beneath whose sprays with buds aglow)
The sauirC's' best carriage stands.
The lash is crack'd away they 60,
While all the girls throw kisses with their
hands.
Q, magic key that memory bearsl
Yes-though hope to be forgiven
I've dFopp'I my book, I've Miss Il the prayers,
I've dream d OF love instead OF Heaven!
The sermons done. And as he stands
Erect in priestly gown and bands,
Upon the peoples Blended heads
The parson with extended hands
The benediction spreads.
Listless, ! wander up the street
To where the burial marbles gray
Have faced the rain and wintry sleet-
think It's twenty years to-day.
Isee the brier-rose blushing sweet
see the sprigs Of caraway;
The warm air seems with life to thrill,
And every bird has time to trill
Its unprecedented lay.
How oft the marring planets bid
Our tawning Joys dissolve In tearsi
How many radiant hopes are hid
Behind the nilsts Of twenty years
Yet, hovsoe'e ain my heart,
And night my eyelids wet,
tender sw soothes the smart,
Nor leaves a. sure 10 regret
What l, indeeC 7ould not forget
That e'er saw thtt yirlsh face,
ID that ancient Ihoir and sang the basl
hsvgpson, in Hdrper's Weekly.